


Contact High

by sistercacao



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drugs, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-16
Updated: 2007-09-16
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13367028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sistercacao/pseuds/sistercacao
Summary: Duo and Heero get caught smoking weed in a Wendy's parking lot.





	Contact High

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on [this quote](http://bash.org/?790133) on bash.org. Read the fic first though, because reading the quote will give the entire plot away!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Duo peered over at his friend in the passenger’s seat. “Of course not. It’s a terrible idea.” He punctuated his self-amusing statement with a low laugh.

Heero didn’t bother to reward Duo with a reply, just gave their surroundings yet another once-over. “We look totally obvious. We’re the only car in this part of the parking lot and it’s 1 AM.”

“Well,” Duo shrugged, killing the engine and leaving the keys to dangle in the ignition slot, “there are trees and shit, maybe they won’t see us. Besides, our fucking parents are home, you got a better idea?”

Heero scratched the side of his arm and said nothing. His friend grinned triumphantly.

“Didn’t think so. Now get that shit out, dude! It’s time to see just how sticky Howard grows the icky.”

Dutifully, Heero pulled the small bag of dry, green leaf out of his jacket pocket. The weed was barely visible behind the strange, swirling design Howard liked to print on his bags. Decorating a bag of pot just seemed like a waste of time to Heero– after all, no one was choosing their dealers on the basis of their presentation. Howard was a strange guy, anyway, running a comic book store by day and a veritable pot enterprise by night. Sometimes by day, too, if he liked you enough.

Heero had no idea how Duo had managed to hook up with a weird old guy like him, but that was just one of the many mysteries of his best friend. There were quite a few of those. For example, why the hell had Duo decided that an empty Wendy’s parking lot was the best place to commit an illegal act? Duo didn’t seem the least bit worried about police finding them, and if Heero told him just how stupid of a place he thought this was, Duo would surely call him paranoid or just a big pussy. He kept his mouth shut.

Duo gazed longingly at the colorful baggie in the palm of Heero’s hand. “Oh there you are, baby,” he cooed. “Heero, Howard guaranteed me this stuff was his best weed. He says this is the shit he uses for his _personal_ stash.” Reaching into the deep pockets of his hoodie, Duo pulled out a thick glass pipe, the clear finish threaded with veins of black and blue. Heero had to admit that he’d expected something more flashy from Duo– maybe a pipe shaped like a naked woman or a dragon or something. He didn’t bother to say that aloud; Duo would think he was calling him either a pervert or a nerd. And since Duo was graciously letting him smoke his stash for free, Heero felt he should keep his criticisms to a minimum.

Still, he couldn’t help rolling his eyes at Duo’s recalling of Howard’s sales pitch. “Maybe he just wanted to charge you more.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Duo laughed. “Anyway, we’ll see. Hand it over, man, first hit goes to the guy who actually paid for the crap.”

Heero watched as his friend carefully opened the plastic bag and packed the pipe. “There’s a lighter in the glove compartment,” he said, motioning to Heero with his free hand.

Heero popped the glove compartment open and, after a bit of searching in the darkness of the car, handed him the lighter. Sticking his hands deep in his pockets, he watched Duo as he prepared to light up.

With all the grace habitual practice afforded him, Duo placed his mouth over the end of the pipe and pressed long fingers to the bulbed end, covering the single hole in the side. Flicking his lighter once, twice before it caught, he tilted his hand to let the flame hover over the bowl. As he inhaled, he sucked the small flame into the bowl to light the pot, and it danced and cracked as it burned, charring to black and haloed in glowing red.

Heero was impressed with Duo’s stamina. His friend’s eyebrows puckered in concentration, purple eyes glued to the flame, but he didn’t falter or choke. Heero counted ten seconds before Duo pulled his lips away and turned towards him with a smile. Thick white smoke crept out of the corners of his mouth, two thin streams rising in lazy plumes to the ceiling. With a satisfied exhale, Duo turned the pipe his way, his fingers still closed over the hole.

“Holy _shit_ , that’s a smooth hit,” he breathed, though his resounding cough a second later belied a little exaggeration.

Heero took the offered pipe, replacing Duo’s fingers with his own, and performed with casual ease the same choreography they both had learned from frequent repetition– exhale, flick, inhale, hold, release, pass.

Duo was right, the smoke was uncommonly smooth. There was still the familiar rawness in his throat, the barely suppressible desire to cough, but the weed was so clean that the harshness barely bothered him. He inhaled a second after he breathed out, welcoming the instant flood of heaviness through his limbs.

“Damn,” he said appreciatively.

“I knew Howard wasn’t no liar,” Duo said, his grin already widened, his eyes groggy and half-lidded. Heero watched him take a second hit– inhale, exhale– and gladly accepted the returned pipe. “Man, I’m going to be stoned _solid_ by the end of this bowl!”

Inhale... hold... exhale. “We’ve got at least a half-ounce left,” Heero said in a voice choked by his raw throat. He coughed automatically. Duo laughed and slouched further in his seat.

“I suppose we don’t have to smoke it all tonight, though...”

Duo waved an impatient hand. “Hey, man, smoke it or pass it!”

“Sorry.” Heero’s mouth turned unconsciously upwards, a smirk curling languidly into a drowsy smile. He vaguely thought he must look at least as stupid as Duo currently did, all droopy eyes and lazy grins, but he certainly didn’t care.

The familiar haze of smoke and hot breath soon filled Duo’s car, the air clogged with a sweetly sour aroma despite the half-rolled windows. The atmosphere of the car matched the atmosphere of his brain, the familiar sensation of warmth that curled through his limbs and settled like a palpable weight in the body, the haze of his intoxication almost like smoke fogging the windows of his thoughts. Heero’s mind felt heavy, pleasantly clogged, and his eyes felt glued and itchy; like the rest of his face, it felt that every expression he made pulled on them in a strange, newly noticeable way.

“I wonder if it’s always like that, and we just don’t notice because we’re so used to it?” He mumbled to himself, pulling his hands out of his pockets only with great effort and rubbing them across his eyes.

“You’re fucking baked, dude,” Duo drawled from the driver’s seat, grinning broadly. His eyes were bloodshot, pinked, his wide mouth spread in that dopey, drugged smile. Though Heero certainly found his expression telling, the uninitiated were unlikely to even notice a difference.

Heero might turn into a sloppy mess when he smoked, but nothing in Duo’s demeanor was ever altered by the high– only amplified, his usual gregarious personality brought to its logical extreme (Duo was everyone’s best friend when he smoked), his bright, attractive smile stretched to its limit, with all his even, white teeth on full display.

“You’re totally stoned,” Duo repeated in a cracked, tight voice.

“Sssh... shut up,” Heero slurred, playing it up a little for Duo’s benefit.

Laughing, Duo twirled the small plastic package between his index finger and thumb, watching the swirling designs warp and shift with the action. “Knew I had to try this stuff out with you the minute I got my hands on it. Wouldn’t bring this over to a party and let just anyone try it, you know.”

“Thanks, Duo.”

“No problemo, you know I love you, man!”

Heero smirked. Duo was always _that guy_ at the party, the one who, by whatever means of intoxication possible, always managed to inform every last guest that they were, indeed, held very close to his heart. As fellow partiers, maybe, but more importantly, as dear friends– this was always stressed regardless of whether Duo had met them a year or a half-hour before.

Duo especially liked to finish his proclamations of love with the adamant declaration: “and I _never_ tell a lie!” If that was true, Heero thought, then Duo certainly had a lot of love in his heart to go around.

Somehow, even though being _that guy_ was one of the most egregious party fouls in the entire sport, no one seemed to begrudge Duo his outpouring of affection-under-the-influence. Maybe it was just because no one seemed to dislike Duo at all, really. Even Heero, who, when he’d met the boy in freshman year, had originally thought that he’d have rather licked a toilet seat than spent time with a loudmouth kid with hair down to his ass, had been won over by Duo’s sheer tenacity and good-natured doggedness for Heero’s friendship.

Now, of course, he couldn’t imagine what the last two years would have been like without Duo around to turn him from a socially retarded outcast into a... well, he wasn’t exactly a social _butterfly_ , per se. More of a moth, actually. Beyond Duo, Heero could count on one hand the number of people he talked to on a regular basis. But the difference was in himself, he reasoned. He was happier now than he’d ever been before he’d met Duo. Besides, his best friend made up for his quiet and sometimes anti-social attitude in spades. And hearts and diamonds and whatever the hell the last suit was. What _was_ the last suit?

Shit, he couldn’t remember. Heero frowned, deeply disturbed.

“Are you _thinking_ about shit again?” Duo mumbled, scratching his nose. “You’re like, fucking Socrates sometimes, the way you get all philosophical on me.”

Heero realized he’d been stuck in a tangent in his own head for quite some time. If Duo was the I-love-everyone guy, then Heero was the get-stoned-and-ponder-the-universe guy, and it annoyed Duo to no end, it seemed. He debated asking Duo if he knew the name of the last suit, but his stoned mind opted instead for the decidedly cryptic, “yeah... I was thinking about how I’m more like a moth than a butterfly.”

“What?” Duo immediately looked angry, though he couldn’t have any idea what Heero was talking about. He turned fully in his seat to face Heero, his eyes bloodshot and slitted but nonetheless serious. “No way, man! Don’t be that way about yourself!”

“Huh?” Spades... hearts... clubs! That was it! Wait, what was Duo talking about now?

“You’re a butterfly, Heero, not a moth!” Duo nodded emphatically with his slurred words. “You are a _butterfly_!”

Heero didn’t bother to correct him or even fill him in on just what he meant by the statement. In fact, he couldn’t exactly remember anymore himself.

“Thanks, Duo,” he simply said, smiling gratefully. He didn’t get called a butterfly very often, after all.

“No problem, buddy, you know I love you!”

Heero opened his mouth to respond, or maybe wonder aloud just how many times Duo was going to remind him of that fact, but something in the corner of his hazy vision made his head snap around in slightly dizzying attention.

There was movement in the deserted parking lot, a white shape rolling behind the foggy windows... a car with something written in blue on the side.

“Holy shit...” he breathed, his eyes focusing beyond Duo’s head. Duo shifted in his seat and peered out his side window, trying to see what had caught Heero’s attention.

“Duo, is that a cop?”

“What? Don’t fuck with me, man, I’m way too high for that shit.” Duo turned away from the window to shake some clarity into his consciousness, then looked back out again to double-check.

“Oh, no way, you cannot be serious! Fuck fuck fuck fuck _FUCK_.” Duo’s swearing gave him all the confirmation he needed.

Fear crept unbidden into Heero’s chest, clenching tightly around his heart. The car pulling into the otherwise empty lot was unmistakably a police vehicle– the heavy lights fastened to the roof made that all too obvious. He blinked his painfully dry eyes, trying to will away the creeping panic– more than slightly drug induced– rising in his throat.

“What do we do?”

“Maybe if we don’t move, he’ll think no one’s in the car and drive away,” Duo whispered hoarsely. “Or maybe he won’t notice we’re here.”

Heero nodded, unwilling now to even speak lest it alert the cop to their presence. Duo sank slowly down in his chair, eyes still glued to the white car beyond the window. He pressed himself against the faded grey fabric of the passenger’s seat, his heart about to burst out of his chest. If any sixteen year old had ever suffered a heart attack, Heero thought, this had certainly been the situation that caused it. If he went into cardiac arrest before the police arrested them would he and Duo get brought up on any charges? His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, his breathing shallow against the deafening rush of blood in his ears.

The cop pulled off to the left, the opposite direction of Duo’s car. Lazily, like a vulture waiting for its prey to finally die, it circled the parking lot, passing the Safeway and the dry cleaner’s that shared the space with the Wendy’s. It turned the next corner, heading towards them. Heero couldn’t speak, could only watch, but if he had been able to talk he was sure all he’d do was curse.

Slowly, unhurriedly, the police car made a full patrol around the Wendy’s lot, though theirs was the only other car in sight. Heero’s eyes shifted to the rear view. He watched through the foggy glass as the cop cut his lights and brought his car to a dismaying stop, several parking spaces behind them.

“Fuck, he’s fucking seen us!” Duo hissed with all the panic Heero felt. “Open the glove compartment, man, we’ve gotta stash the pot!”

Heero swallowed, though his throat was tight and unyielding. He reached for the glove compartment handle with shaking hands. It took him two tries before he managed enough leverage to open the tiny door. Duo reached over and all but hurled the pipe and small baggie, still condemningly full, inside. Heero shut the compartment with shaking hands, but neither of them felt any safer.

“This car just reeks of weed,” Duo whispered. His eyes darted frantically to the rear view, where the cop had not yet left his car. No need, after all, when they were trapped like sitting ducks in this corner. “He’s totally going to know what’s going on. Shit, man, we’re going to get busted for sure!”

Heero met Duo’s panicked eyes, trying to think of all the ways his father would murder him if they were arrested for smoking pot. He’d probably send him to military school or something. He’d never see Duo again, that much was certain. He didn’t even have time between feeling scared to death and completely miserable to get mad at Duo for thinking the Wendy’s parking lot was a good idea in the first place.

“Fuck! He’s getting out!” Duo said a moment before Heero heard the telltale slam of a car door and the muffled steps of someone walking toward their car.

“Quick, Heero, we’ve gotta distract him from the pot!” Duo moved and turned in his seat to fully face Heero. Was he looking to him for a plan? Duo was always the one with the plans! If it was up to him, they were definitely screwed for sure.

In a flash, Duo had pulled his hoodie and shirt up over his head and threw them to the backseat. Wait, what?

Before he could even begin to register what Duo had planned, Duo was leaning over him and unbuttoning his pants, giving him no warning as he simultaneously stuck his hand into the elastic waistband of Heero’s boxers and slipped his tongue into Heero’s slack mouth.

Heero had to give himself some credit: it was a miracle that neither the arrival of the police nor the position he had instantly found himself in with Duo caused him to soil his pants. He felt, personally, that was quite an accomplishment.

For a few endless seconds, all he was aware of was the warm hand against his _extremely fucking private_ parts and the soft mouth pressing against his, the wet heat of Duo’s tongue and the slightly stale aftertaste of weed. It took him a moment to react when someone tapped a hand against his window.

Duo broke the kiss and both of them looked up in quite authentic fear to see the policeman staring through the half-open window at them.

The expression on the man’s face was, Heero reasoned, completely understandable. He couldn’t imagine the face _he’d_ make if he had just approached two teenage boys in a parked car, only to find them half-naked with their hands down each other’s pants. He guessed it would be something like the look the policeman wore now, somewhere between absolute shock and deep embarrassment.

It seemed that embarrassment won out in the end. The cop’s face flushed a bright red and he seemed to choke on whatever he’d intended to say.

Mustering up every ounce of courage he had and desperately forcing himself to ignore the fact that Duo’s hand was still stuffed in his underwear, Heero looked directly up into the mortified policeman’s eyes and spoke.

“Is there a problem, officer?”

The man coughed, turning his eyes away from the scene in the car. “You...”

For an agonizing few moments, nobody spoke. Heero’s mind was a whirl of panic and adrenaline.

Would the cop smell the pot? Were they going to go to get arrested? Was Duo’s ridiculous idea actually going to work?

“Y-you boys be good now,” the policeman stammered, his voice flustered and unnaturally high.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and all but ran back to his car, pulling out of the parking lot in the opposite direction from them and swiftly peeling out of the driveway.

In his wake there was a moment of blissful silence as both boys thanked what must have been the work of some Patron Saint of Marijuana. Heero couldn’t believe it. How had they managed to get away with it? Duo had to be some kind of mad genius. Yeah, _some_ kind.

Relief flooding him, Heero turned his head to face his friend, who was grinning at him triumphantly in the darkness of the car. “I can’t believe that worked,” Heero breathed, still too shaky to manage anything more than a whisper. “He didn’t even notice the smell of weed! I can’t believe it...”

Heero trailed off, once more immediately aware that Duo was still leaning over him, shirtless, his hand residing comfortably in his underwear.

Silence descended over them with a capital ‘S’. ‘S’ for “strange”, ‘S’ for “strained”, ‘S’ for “sweet fucking Jesus his hand is right on my balls”.

Heero awkwardly met Duo’s gaze, his heart rate barely slowed even by the relief of surviving the run-in with the police. That heart attack might still be in the cards after all, he thought with dismay.

Duo’s smile fluttered and ran away from his face, leaving a puzzled look.

“Heero...” he said carefully, his words decidedly slow and cautious, “...do you have a boner?”

Yes, Heero reasoned to himself, one of them was definitely going to die before the end of the night. If the heart attack didn’t get him, the embarrassment certainly would.

“Uh...”

He had to think of something to say, quickly! Heero tried to will away the fog of thought in his head.

“It’s... it’s your fault.”

Okay, that was definitely not the right something. Duo stared at him like he’d grown a second head (or a third, besides the one causing all the trouble in his pants). Carefully, as if afraid to touch him further, he slipped his hand out of Heero’s boxers. As the hand moved toward his face, Heero flinched, sure he was going to get smacked.

Instead, it came to rest somewhere around Heero’s jaw, and before he knew it, Duo’s mouth once again came to cover his.

Heero was too disoriented to even fake a protest. All he could manage to do was pull the other boy closer to him. Duo’s soft, determined lips examined his, closing around Heero’s lower lip and pulling it inside the other boy’s mouth to be teased with that hot tongue. Heero’s mouth parted, his breath short, and he swept his tongue against Duo’s wet lips, exploring further to find the other boy’s tongue.

The kiss was hot, brazen, passionate, and much too quickly for Heero’s liking, Duo ended it and pulled back to meet his unfocused gaze.

“Well,” he panted, a smirk curling around his even teeth. Then, his warm hand moved from Heero’s jaw and fell to his pants. Heero watched him, his heart racing.

Duo worked without haste. With deliberate care, he refastened the button of Heero’s jeans, his long fingers dipping down to pull up the loosened zipper.

“What are you...”

Duo craned his neck forward to coax another kiss from Heero’s lips. He grinned triumphantly in the dark, his eyes wide and, Heero noticed, perfectly clear.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you in this state, man.”

Duo retreated fully into the driver’s seat, turning the dangling set of keys to start the ignition. He fumbled blindly over the back of his chair to retrieve his shirt and hoodie, checking briefly to see if they were right side out before pulling them over his head.

At a loss, Heero stammered, “are you okay to drive?”

Duo laughed. “Yeah, I was barely half as stoned as you are. And that cop showing up scared the high right out of me.”

Duo reversed the car and pulled it out of the parking lot. “If you’re worried about running into your dad, you can crash at my place until you’re sober.”

Heero’s mind was a jumble. If Duo wasn’t high, then why... “Why did you...?”

“Please,” Duo said with a grin, glancing at Heero, “I’m willing to wait. Can’t have you blaming it on the weed, now.”

They spent the rest of the ride in silence, Heero’s head still fuzzy but certainly alert enough to understand what Duo was saying. A small smile found its way to his lips.

He never imagined he’d be so excited to get sober.


End file.
